


little things

by kinpika



Series: BLUE [2]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spoilers, some teasing some mind reading some dick sucking what's new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-08 00:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: “How much can you hear?” You ask, because you don’t stop your thoughts on account of her. If anything, you think harder. How she laughs, the way her lips wrap around a cigarette, that time she snorted lemonade on the counter. Picking little things, and almost frowning at her as you think.





	little things

You’re pretty sure it’s a Tuesday. That’s what the television blares at you, anyway, candid shots of some fight down far, far below. But, for once, that doesn’t bother you the way it used to. Like the barely there thread that was holding you all into the order snapped, but you’re not sure when.

So, it’s a Tuesday. On the couch, tangled up in limbs, old shirts, fingers running through hair. Logan snoozes on you, warm in the sun, and you know the angle she’s lying at shouldn’t be comfortable. Not the first time you have compared her to a cat, but this time she can’t frown at you for it.

But that’s okay, because you get to work your fingers down lines. Zigzag patterns that cross her skin, marred only by scar and freckles. Logan took some time, to let your fingers hold on, to trace, and you’ve never been more thankful. Perhaps she’ll never see herself the way you do, but your shirt lay just a fraction open on her chest, and the shorts she’s wearing are a good two sizes too big, and she’s _happy_.

You know she is. Because she turns, from where her head was in your lap, blinking in the sun. “Stop talking so loud.” A grumble, before she has her arms around your waist, face pressed firmly against your stomach. “So early.”

The belly laugh that leaves you shakes her, and you get pinched for it. But you can feel the smile, how the fingers dig in to your back, and how she looks up at you. How she looks at you.

Whatever was being said on the tv gets lost in how you trip and fall into her eyes. _That_ gets a snort out of her, and she’s pushing your face out the way. “ _Stop_ ,” she stresses, but you don’t want to. Getting one moment, where it’s just them, like this, was getting harder and harder to find.

“How much can you hear?” You ask, because you don’t stop your thoughts on account of her. If anything, you think harder. How she laughs, the way her lips wrap around a cigarette, that time she snorted lemonade on the counter. Picking little things, and almost frowning at her as you think.

Logan is pushing your face away, face drawn into a smile and telling you to stop, ohmy _god_ , Danny, why are you remembering that?! You love the way your name sounds on her lips, how she has two hands on your temple now, as if that’ll stop you.

“You’re _so_ loud!”

Arms around her, you don’t stop grinning. You honestly can’t. Logan doesn’t laugh much, but here she is bright and sunny, forehead against yours. Eyes closed, soft smile. “You need to stop saying so much.” And she’s trying her best to be authoritative, grumpy. Everything about her betrays that.

“Yes, ma’am.” You think about her cheeks, her hair, her ass. “Absolutely, ma’am.” Her arms, her thighs. How she smiles.

Her eyes open slowly, and she bites her lip. “You are _awful_.”

Without a beat, you shoot back: “Definitely the worst.”

Something comes over her face. You saw it last night, a sad, sorry kind of look, before she kissed questions away. And you want to push, of course you do, but Logan works quickly. All about distractions, feints, good ol’ sleight of hand. You have to figure that’s how she was gone for so long.

She kisses you, soft and steady. Eyelids fluttering shut kind of kiss, where her hands cup your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks. Tomorrow, you’ll ask her tomorrow. Get whatever is bothering her out of her tomorrow. She’s backed you up into a corner today, moved you when you weren’t looking. Arm of the couch digging into your back, but she’s still kissing you.

“Logan,” you sound out, in between movement. “Window.”

Whilst it had darkened, to allow light in and nothing out, she had always maintained four solid walls, nothing else. But she smiles, wicked gold, tugging your lower lip between teeth. “Leave it.”

You can safely say that your brain might’ve shorted out, just a little. Especially when she laughs, lightly, fingers moving before the rest of her. Always had the upper hand, or in this case lower (she snorts, confirming that she heard that). And you want to shy away, because Logan is bold and beautiful, flushed cheeks and open mouthed kisses down your chest. Only a hand lingers along your jaw, and you chase the tips of her fingers with kisses, nibbling along the very tips.

It’s when she reaches your hips, dipping past your stomach with a series of kisses, that you become hyper aware. How close she gets, and it’s like all the blood leaves your head. A part of you, the only sensible part, is sighing. Again. This isn’t the first time, Daniel, you’ve seen her like this before.

But each and every time, it’s different. Feels different. Same motions, with edging down the band of your trackpants, laving her tongue along your hips. Chasing the revealed skin. Even as she’s made herself comfortable between your knees, you want to just maybe press your legs together, encourage her away. No, don’t worry, let me do you.

It’s probably because you’re still reeling from the first night, when she threw back her whiskey, gave you a long hard kiss with a wink, and dropped to her knees without any hesitation. You still remember that, fiercely, because you might’ve moaned out Sidestep, not Logan.

Twitch as fingers dig in to your waist, bordering the other side of ticklish. And you might’ve laughed, had it not ended on a low note, a drawn out moan as she mouths the outline of your cock through your underwear. At least four different situations play out in your mind’s eye — and all of them were influenced by the cheap hero porn on the market. The pinch on your thigh tells you that Logan heard that, again (you remember admitting to her, the forums. The _other_ stuff. She was oddly flattered, and you’re still thankful for _that_ ).

If there’s a name to be said, it’s lost. Gone. Can never fight the obscene thoughts fast enough, as the heels of your palms dig into your eyes. With just the thin line of cotton between her mouth and your cock, you don’t know if you’re going to even make it past that. Especially not when the pressure leaves, and you can feel her shift against you.

A hand gently pries one of yours from your eyes. And promptly places it on her head, grin wide. “Danny,” she murmurs, eyes burning, cheeks flushed. Her smile betrays her. “Let me taste you.”

Not that you believe there to be any blood left in your brain anyway, but _fuck_ if it didn’t all flood south. “O-oh,” is all you make out. Have to quickly look down, because that burst of warmth low in your gut might’ve been something else entirely.

“Isn’t that what they say in _your_ pornos?”

 _Ah_.

Logan cackles, but doesn’t remove your hand. No real mirth, as she’s beyond amused as she returns to pressing light kisses along whatever exposed skin she could find. Familiar, and good. You can keep up with this pace. Back to where she was, tapping your hip to get you to raise yourself up enough to slide pants and underwear further down. Yes ma’am, right away. No hesitation, getting you another laugh.

You didn’t have to be a mindreader to know what Logan was thinking when she looks up at you again. And, look, what she repeats from pornography just to mess with you was her business, but she didn’t have any right to hold you firm, one long lick from base to tip as she did so. That was all her.

And you knew it, eyes rolling to the back of your skull, just about. Arm thrown over your face, if you watch, it’ll be over very, _very_ quickly. Logan is quite aware of this fact, if the increase in noises is anything to go by.

Laughing which sucking you off probably shouldn’t be something she was capable of, but here they were. Still working hands and tongue and you damn near jump at the way her lips wrap around your balls. Nope, arm over eyes wasn’t working. One grips the back of the couch, the other leaves her hair, going to grip the cushion next to your head. Have to stay grounded. Don’t _float_.

(she doesn’t find that funny, as you recall her nearly choking the last time it happened)

“Log— _ahn—_ ” the only warning she was going to get.

Now you were stuck, watching. Not even keeping your eyes shut was going to work, as you’re a sucker for punishment, and watching her work you made you all gooey inside. Yep, that’s exactly how you’d describe it. One of her hands is firmly planted on your hip, holding you down. Head bobbing, pulling up only to look up, before she slowly lowers herself once more. Taking you to base.

She can’t say you didn’t warn her. Logan pulls up immediately, tender rosy moment lost to how she reaches for a nearby cup, spitting into it. Mug sitting firmly on the ground once she was done, you can vaguely see it out the corner of your eye. Not at all focused on how she’s grumbling, as you’re feeling very light and warm, but haven’t quite let go of the couch yet. You’re pretty sure you’re starting to float, anyway.

Logan flops back eventually, almost mimicking the way you lie. Rolling her tongue in her mouth, still grimacing. With some effort, you pry your fingers from the material, sure you wouldn’t just float away. Gingerly tucking yourself away, pulling your pants back up, you finally breathe. Think. Grin.

Hover, over where Logan kept herself. Lowering until your hands sat either side of her head, knees firmly meeting the couch. She lets you, eyes never giving anything away. Except that smile, slide of lips that you have to kiss. Taste yourself, and she’s still grumpy, even as her fingers find your hair, and she sighs happily when you start moving south. You’re not sure you would have it any other way.


End file.
